The Best People
by our dancing days
Summary: All three of them were insane, off their heads, mad. But Remus always said that all the best people are.


**Title:** The Best People

**Characters:** Remus Lupin, James Potter and Sirius Black.

**Notes: **This is a short one-shot on what Remus Lupin thinks of the true Marauders and, in return, what they think of him. _I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Remus reckoned that everyone fell in love with James Potter and Sirius Black, if only a little.

Even Minerva, with her spectacles and perfectly prim black hair, had fallen to the charms of Potter and Black more than once in this lifetime. It took Lily seven years, but even she crumbled, in the end. Peter adored them, admired them, loved them, even. He lived for them, or at least, part of him did. Poor, hated Severus Snape respected them, on some level.

Mrs Potter welcomed Sirius with open arms and James had always secretly been Molly Prewett's (eventually Molly Weasley's) favourite.

Even Harry fell.

Remus, as with a lot of things, was no exception to this rule.

James was charming, as all true marauders must be, and Sirius was handsome, as you must be to be in Gryffindor, or so they say. They both were intelligent, as you're no trouble-maker if you're not sneaky and witty, and they were both... well, _insane. _

Remus' father once said that all the best people are.

Even Peter, cowardly little _rat _that he was, could charm and lie his way out of detention as though he was a Hufflepuff, and he was good-looking, in his own boyish way.

He was intelligent; no one but Severus Snape could best the boy at Potions and History of Magic, and as crazy as - well - a hatter.

Remus fell behind.

He was awkward and fumbling, and though he was seen as endearing, people would have to be blind to see him as charming. There was a scar across his pointed face, and his nose, as Sirius enjoyed to point out, looked constantly as though he had gotten run over by a Muggle motorcycle, and he was too small, too thin, too plain to be stunning.

He was bookish, and quiet, and though smart, his marks weren't the highest in the class, and I suppose you could only count him as _wise. _

As Sirius had told him, though, Remus Lupin knew all about the _madness within._

The Marauders were enigmatic, exciting and enervating, and Remus was the exception to this.

"Mr Prongs would like to invite Mr Moony to have some fun," James taunted, pulling Remus' frantic quill from his equally frantic fingers. Remus sighed, but didn't bother to fight for his lost instrument.

"And Mr Padfoot would like to add that Mr Moony should really pull that stick out of his arse as it's unbecoming of a gentleman."

"Mr Wormtail would like to conclude that Mr Moony should let the previous Marauders copy his dutifully written out homework, as it was chosen over them."

"No," Remus said simply, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Just... no. Whatever you want to do, you can do it without me today, okay? I need to catch up from the full moon. I can't afford to miss this."

"Oh, please." Sirius rolled his eyes, and even standing up, he gave the impression of slouching. "You've been uptight all day. At least come to Honeyduke's."

"I _have _to finish this Transfiguration essay. It's _OWLs." _

"OWLs, schmowls. They'll be easy. It's not like we're Snivellus, right?" James, Sirius and Peter all laughed and high fived in turn. "You're a real bore when you're like this, mate," James added, raising an eyebrow at him and pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"Like I care," Remus replied sullenly, looking shamefully down at his paper. "Alright. I'll come. But you owe me a paragraph on the dangers of Vanishing."

Remus reckoned that everyone hated James Potter and Sirius Black as well.

Because they were children. Remus might have been, once - _might have been; _what a depressing phrase - but nevertheless, he was forced to grow up. He was forced to care about OWLs and NEWTs and the fragile future that awaited him outside the walls of Hogwarts.

James and Sirius, and to a lesser extent, Peter, were destined for easy greatness, to be heroes, to be perfect.

Minerva had to hate their recklessness and impulsiveness, the way they just _didn't care. _Lily had to hate their immaturity, much like Remus, and though it took a while for her to realise, their confidence was more than petty arrogance - it was insolence and ignorance and _brushing off anything that didn't seem __fun_.

Peter grew to hate them, with a mixture of envy and sadness and guilt and just plain _hate. _Severus _hated _them, because they were boys, mean little boys who didn't understand what it was like to be different.

In effect, Sirius killed poor Mrs. Potter, who died of a heart attack shortly after hearing that Sirius had tackled a group of armed, senior Death Eaters because he thought it sounded fun and hence was in a coma for a week.

And Molly Weasley cradled and coddled and cared for James Potter's son, because James had left her, and she had to hang on to the little piece of him still standing.

She hated him for it. So did Harry.

Even as the last Marauder, fighting and dying in battle (as he had always expected, always waited for), Remus Lupin had to hate them, those boys so full of colour and insanity life and love. He had to love them too.

James Potter and Sirius Black reckoned that everyone fell in love with Remus Lupin - the exception being, of course, Remus Lupin himself.

All three of them were insane, off their heads, mad. But Remus always said that all the best people are.

...

"Mr Prongs would like to welcome Mr Moony home."

"And Mr Padfoot would like to know what on earth took Mr Moony so long."


End file.
